


Cold Warmth

by Mozzarella



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Coffee, Drabble, Loss, M/M, One Shot, Sad Ending, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:47:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozzarella/pseuds/Mozzarella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyday, Jack makes coffee. He doesn't even like coffee. But he does it anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> ANGST, pain, suffering, and tears. For a kink meme prompt: 
> 
> http://rotg-kink.dreamwidth.org/2200.html?thread=2667160#cmt2667160
> 
> Something goes wrong in a pre-established relationship, meaning the couple (three, four, everyone) are apart. This could be a split up or a full on death, but I just want it to be that who ever is left behind had a ritual of making the other a warm drink.(coffee in the morning for example) Even after the other is gone they still do this, even though they know it will go cold. They don't pour it away until the next morning/night when they make a new one.

It was cold again. He'd been feeling it more often now, the biting at the tips of his fingers and toes after sitting still for a long time, the cold that didn't quite reach the rest of him.  
  
He'd never felt cold before, but his extremities had been taking the brunt of the unusual weather as of late.   
  
That was why he made the coffee.   
  
He hated coffee, really. Too bitter, too stark an aftertaste on his tongue. It was disgusting, and he never drank what he brewed. But he'd gotten good at brewing it, getting up every morning at five forty-five (on the dot) just so he could do it right.   
  
That was what he used to do, before, after all. What was the point of changing it?   
  
"Jackie," Aster would say come morning, when he was greeted by the smell of good coffee and his young lover perched on the counter, "you don't have to." He'd say this every time, in variations that fit his mood, but it all boiled down to "you don't have to".   
  
But he did. It was the one thing he could do that could bring a smile to an otherwise frustrating morning, that could earn him an extra kiss or an affectionate embrace before Aster would inevitably leave for his job ("protect and serve and all that jazz").   
  
Sometimes Jack would have to pack it in, when Aster was in a hurry. "I'm not your barista!" Jack would call after him, and he'd jump back just to give him a kiss ("here's your tip") and run off again.   
  
Aster was in a hurry, the last time, some weeks before. It was cold (he'd never liked the cold, that was more of Jack's area), and he was wrapped up in a crap scarf that Jack had attempted to knit him last Christmas, and he'd said "Keep it warm for me," when Jack couldn't get the coffee done in time.   
  
He'd dropped him a kiss, on the top of his head, and disappeared out the door.   
  
And every day since, Jack's kept a fresh brew in the machine, warm and ready to boil, just waiting for someone to come through the door and take it. 


End file.
